


Cooking Lesson

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 02:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Noctis asked for help. It was Prompto's duty to step up and tease his best friend.





	Cooking Lesson

“Dude! Boiling water is basic!” Prompto lifted the little pot from the stove having sworn it was fine a moment ago. He searched the stove settings for any problem to explain the still room temperature water, the reason for the long wait for even a simmer when he had stepped away from the kitchen. “How do you mess that up?”

“I don’t know!” Noctis was already sulking— already glaring at the hated kitchen equipment as he tried to understand what had already gone wrong before they started. “I did what you said.”

“Don’t think you did.”

Prompto found the problem in the settings— the wrong elements were set and on, the wrong section set to high, while the rest stayed cold. The pot’s lid was still on the counter, along with the pasta and jar of sauce, with the clean skillet and the selection of meat still marinating in a bowl. He moved the pot to the correct element and covered it, shaking his head while Noctis glared nearby. 

“Fine, whatever, I suck. What now?”

“You don’t suck, you’re just dumb.”

“Thanks.”

“Maybe you do suck, I could ask Nyx. Does he blush? I’ve never seen him blush.”

“Dude, shut up.”

“I assume he would if I asked him about your sex life.”

“Prompto! Shut. Up.”

“But then how will I teach you to make a seductive pasta?”

“I hate you.”

The water was already simmering, the pasta almost ready to be added so they could move on. “I know buddy. You going to come over here?”

There wasn’t actually an occasion, Prompto had found out. No anniversary or birthday, or some previously unknown holiday. But Noctis had asked for help, and he was obligated under the sacred oaths of best friends to both oblige and tease Noctis mercilessly for it. They had settled on the Altissian dish currently pulled up on both of their phones— a light pasta with a spiced sauce, and a seasoned meat to go with it. This was practise, to get the timing and technique right. To get the details and presentation perfect for whatever had made Noctis think to cook dinner for his Galahdian boyfriend. 

Everything had been laid out. They had gone shopping with the list checked and confirmed and in both of their hands (not that it stopped them from getting a bunch of snacks too; it wasn’t every day they actually planned to spend the night at Noctis’ place together). Noctis had searched through his kitchen to make sure he had the right tools, the right sized bowl was set out on the counter with the marinading meat, covered and controlled. They had checked every detail together, resolved not to run to Ignis for help. 

And then Noctis forgot how to read a stove, and Prompto started to doubt the future of the kingdom.


End file.
